Every Rose Has Its Thorn
by midnightskull
Summary: Every rose has its thorn, and in Marian Rose Winchester's case, that thorn comes in the form of a demon. This collection of drabbles takes place throughout their four years together before the events of 'A Rose By Any Other Name.' It provides backstory and insight into Rose and Crowley, as well as a boatload of fluff.
1. Meeting

Meeting

After a long and trying day at work, Rose walked the familiar path from the cafe to her apartment building. It had been about two years since she moved to Chicago, and it felt like it was just yesterday and an eternity ago. She was so familiar with the artistically inclined city that it was like she grew up there, but at the same time there were always little things that surprised her and made it feel like she was discovering something new every day.

While she had found comfort in her new city life away from hunting, she had yet to let her guard down. Always well hidden, Rose carried a gun in her waistband, an angel blade from Dean's angel 'boyfriend' Castiel (Rose teased them relentlessly) in her sleeve, and a vial of holy water in her pocket. While she didn't hunt anymore, she was still a hunter - not at heart, more like soul. Unfortunately, she was never going to be free from the hunter title or instincts.

All of these thoughts swirled through the light brunette's head, including what exactly she was going to have for dinner tonight and how much laundry she had to do.

As she walked past a familiar alleyway, Rose's ears caught the sound of grunts and an almost crunching sound; sounds Rose knew too well.

She pulled the gun from her waistband, keeping it in her dominant hand, wielding her angel blade in the other. Gun raised, she rushed into the alley.

Not much to her surprise, Rose found two well dressed men giving a third the beating of a lifetime and the smell of sulfur in the air. He had blood everywhere, likely not just his. His nose was clearly broken and there were several stab wounds in his chest. Rose knew instantly that these men were demons. But why they would be attacking one of their own was beyond her at the moment.

"I'm feeling nice today. I'll give you three seconds to get your sorry asses out of here before I kill you." Rose announced herself, aiming her gun at one of the attackers' head.

He chuckled, spinning to look at the petite girl that spoke with such confidence. "Is that so, pretty girl?"

"3."

The two standing demons exchanged glances, watching the girl with not-so-masked humor.

"2."

Smirking the whole time, one of the demons took a few steps towards the little Winchester.

"1." Rose stood her ground. The demon was maybe an inch from the end of her silenced gun.

"Your little weapon won't kill me, sweet cheeks."

"I know." Rose threw her left arm forward, the angel blade sinking into the demon's gut with ease. With wide eyes and a gasp, he fell to the ground, dead.

The second attacker looked from his friend up to the temporarily retired hunter, his own black eyes wide with surprise. "That's not possible..." He muttered to himself.

"You gonna run or are you gonna go easily?" Rose asked, her face blank except for a small smirk. On cue, he took off. But he didn't make it very far before he collapsed, thanks to an expertly aimed bullet to the knee. Rose strode up to the squirming demon, not pausing a moment before stabbing him through the heart with her blade.

Rose returned the gun to her waistband. With a nod of satisfaction, she returned to the third demon, still laying slumped against the brick wall of the alley.

"Come on, let's get you fixed up." Rose muttered, wrapping a slender but strong arm around his waist.

* * *

Somehow managing to get the bloody demon up to her apartment without question, Rose unlocked her door, the demon still leaning on her for support. She quickly kicked away her doormat at the entrance so her house guest wouldn't get stuck in the devil's trap, and let the door slam behind them.

With less ease than Rose would have liked, she managed to get the man onto her couch. Without a word of explanation to the man, she set to work. Depositing her jacket on a nearby chair and kicking her shoes off, Rose hurried to the kitchen. She dug out her med kit, a pile of clothes, a large bowl of warm water, and a bottle of whiskey she kept under the sink for emergencies (mainly for when Dean and Sam polished off all of her alcohol and didn't buy more).

"What are you doing?" The demon spoke for the first time when Rose returned with her supplies. He had a deep, soothing yet intimidating voice, thick with a British accent and sore from the beating he took.

"What does it look like, dummy? Fixing you up." Rose rolled her eyes and carried on with her work. First things first, she needed to see all of his injuries. So she got to work peeling off his bloody jacket and shirt.

"Do I need to take off the pants too?" When he gave no reply, she could only assume that she didn't need to.

Next, she had to clean up the blood. It took four cloths damp with warm water, but she was able to clean off most of it. Next came the stitching. Flipping open her medkit, Rose pulled out an antiseptic wipe, a needle, and a spool of surgical thread. Working gently and quickly, she sewed up three stab wounds on his chest and one on his right shoulder. 10 strips of gauze, a quarter of a roll of medical tape, an ace bandage and two shot glasses of whiskey later, the demon was well patched up, and Rose now turned her attention to his broken nose.

"Aren't you afraid I'll hurt you?" The demon asked.

"No." Rose replied quickly, her mind concentrating on the task in front of her.

"And why's that, exactly?"

"Well, first, I haven't given you any reason to hurt me, and frankly that would be a pretty poor way to repay me. Second, you're a bit too weak to do me any serious harm. Also, you're sitting on a devil's trap." Rose placed her hands on his face, one on his nose, and gave it a great tug and a shove, neatly popping it back into place. He gave a great hiss of pain before he found his words again.

"So you _are_ a hunter." He mused.

Rose threw the bloodied rags in the bowl and set to work cleaning up the mess around her.

"Retired." She retorted, not bothering to look at him as she worked.

"At such a young age?"

"Got tired of the crap." She said simply. Rose zipped up the medkit after cleaning and repacking her needle and thread.

The demon tried to formulate a witty response to her short story, but was too worn from his beating to conjure one up. Instead he settled for asking her name.

"Marian. But I go by Rose."

"Don't like your name?"

"I was named after my mother, and I prefer to leave her name to her. So I go by my middle name." Rose stood, her arms full. "And you? What's your name?"

"Well, these days, I go by Crowley."

Rose laughed. "Ah, the King of Hell. Well isn't this an interesting night."

"You must not be very retired if you know who I am." He mused with a raised eyebrow and a cocky smirk. He felt his strength slowly returning as the bleeding stopped beneath the cover of the gauze.

"Word gets around. And unfortunately, no hunter can be truly retired. Occupational pain-in-my-ass." Rose's voice was muffled slightly by the cabinet she had her head in. Crowley's eyes instinctively drifted towards her jean-clad rear as she fumbled around putting her medical supplies away.

"What sort of...'crap' forced such a pretty young girl into retirement?" He asked with raised eyebrows, his eyes still lingering on her body as she stood.

Slamming the cabinet shut, she replied: "Why exactly is the King of Hell interested in my life story?"

"Why exactly is a hun- _ex_-hunter taking care of the King of Hell when she could just as easily kill him?"

Crowley watched her with patient curiosity. Rose watched him with tired skepticism.

"Why were a couple of demons beating up their king?"

Crowley gave a smirk. His kind host clearly had the brains to go with the beautiful body he found difficult to keep his eyes off of.

"Why did you come to a demon's aid?" He countered. He wasn't going to be outsmarted by her. He was weak and sore, but he wasn't going to let her win a simple discussion.

As Rose thought of a counter-question, Crowley smiled to himself, a little more proud of his small victory than he would care to admit.

"Having loyalty issues, huh?" It was Rose's turn to smirk. Crowley's smile faltered and shrank.

"So does the King of Hell eat dinner?" The brunette spun to face her kitchen again and busied herself making dinner for herself and her demon guest. "Tonight's a pancake night, don't you think?"

* * *

**This looks like the beginning of a beautiful friendship, don't you think?**

**The first three chapters of 'Every Rose Has Its Thorn' will be setting up their relationship, then each chapter afterwards will be oneshot style and not necessarily in chronological order. Don't expect a regular update schedule as I will simply add a chapter as I think of one.**

**I have been informed that I do not own Supernatural or its characters. However, I do own Marian Rose Winchester and her attitude.**


	2. An Odd Friendship

An Odd Friendship

Rose danced along to the music floating from her radio as she cleaned her apartment. Dean had just come for a visit, giving her some story about Sam being on a solo hunt in California. She knew better and saw the pain in Dean's mannerisms, but she didn't push it. If her brothers were in the middle of a serious bitch fight, there was no way she was going to get involved. Instead, Dean spent the weekend with his little sister, drinking damn near all of her alcohol and refusing to do the dishes or put the toilet seat down. So now she was stuck cleaning up her big brother's mess.

As she straightened up the couch and folded her plush throws, Rose found her mind wandering to the King of Hell yet again. Only a month ago, Crowley had sat on that couch bleeding while she patched him up. Only a month ago, Crowley had grudgingly eaten pancakes while she offered advice on what to do with Hell. Only a month ago, Rose had saved, helped, and took care of the King of Hell and let him leave in a better state than he had arrived in.

She smiled at the thought. The whole thing was ridiculous. What was even better was that Dean had no idea that she even ran into demons a month back.

Rose gave a little laugh before turning her attention to the coffee table across from the couch.

But she hadn't been expecting to see Crowley, fully healed and dressed rather nicely, standing on the other side of her coffee table.

"Can I help you?" Rose asked, determined to appear fully composed and not at all on edge from the internal jump she just experienced. She placed her hands on her hips and raised her eyebrows, waiting for a response from the smirking demon.

"Actually, I came to tell you that your….advice...worked rather well." He spoke slowly, as if immediately regretting each word the second it came out of his mouth.

"I believe the words you're searching for are 'thank you'." Rose rolled her eyes. "Now what do you want?"

"Must I always have an ulterior motive?" He retorted.

"You're the King of Hell and the Crossroads. You always do. So get on with it."

Crowley took a moment to formulate his next words.

"Before you….retired…" He spoke slowly again, carefully choosing each word. "did you ever come across anything about Purgatory?"

"Purgatory? Why do you want to know about Purgatory?"

"Curiosity." Crowley offered.

"Curiosity, my ass. What's really going on?" Rose crossed her arms, widening her stance.

"It's all about location really. It's vast, underutilized, and Hell-adjacent."

"And you want it?"

"Precisely, darling."

Rose sighed. "Well, I hate to disappoint, but other than the crap that Dante wrote, I don't know a thing about Purgatory. But even if I did, what makes you think I would tell you?"

Crowley only offered a small shrug, his smirk twisting into a disappointed frown.

"What, no torture? No 'I don't believe you'? No argument?" Rose spoke with growing skepticism. Something was off, and she was going to figure it out.

"Torture can always be arranged, love. It would be my pleasure." The sheer cockiness in his voice was enough to send Rose's eyes rolling again - something she found herself doing a lot when Crowley was around.

"I didn't say I wanted to be tortured. I just wanna know why you didn't resort to it in the first place."

"It would be a pretty poor way to repay you, now wouldn't it, love?" He quoted her with a victorious smirk.

"So then why me? I wasn't expecting to see you again. Don't you have more important things to do? Better people to question? People who haven't been out of the game for two and a half years?" Rose shifted her weight. She kept a careful gaze on the demon, but allowed herself to relax.

"Unlike you, darling, everyone else in the 'game' as you call it, hardly has the brain capacity to be considered competent. And I don't have time to waste on torturing those fools." Crowley explained simply, now making his way to sit in an armchair on his side of the coffee table.

Rose's eyes squinted in question. "Did you just...compliment me?"

He took a moment to process her words. He had complimented her. He hadn't intended to, but he did. He struggled to create the words for a proper and witty response.

Rose just laughed. "I don't suppose you're staying for dinner, are you? It's curry night."

Crowley was pulled from his thoughts and found himself smiling at the cheery brunette. "I could take the night off."


	3. The Odd Couple

The Odd Couple

"See you on Friday, Liz!" Rose called on her way out. After a long Wednesday at the cafe, Rose had earned herself a well-deserved day off, and she planned to do absolutely nothing. After working 10 days straight, she wanted nothing more than to spend a day wearing pajamas with her feet up with the TV remote and a tub of ice cream in her hands.

Rose practically raced to get home, overjoyed with the idea of endless sleep and no need to wear pants anymore.

But when she arrived at her apartment, she found the lights already on and a man lounging on her couch.

"Crowley! I thought you had more Purgatory hunting to do!" Rose called to her guest with a smile. She discarded her jacket and shoes by the door, dropping her keys on the nearby kitchen counter.

Ever since Crowley asked her about Purgatory - nearly five months ago - he made a habit of dropping in on her every now and then. As time went by, the gaps between his visits shrank. So much so that Rose now was surprisingly used to having the demon in her apartment.

"He stood me up. An interesting case of cold feet." Crowley joked, not bothering to turn and face the girl.

"Cold feet or lack-there-of?"

His only response was a laugh. Rose shook her head and made her way to the couch, depositing her weary body on the other end from the demon king.

"You staying for dinner?" She asked, eyeing his glass of Craig that he seemed to always have.

"Don't I always?" He took a sip.

"Not every time." Rose rested her head on the couch cushion, her body still facing her guest.

"Long day?" Rose just nodded, letting her eyes droop shut for a moment.

"What are you in the mood for, love?" Crowley asked, setting his empty glass down on the coffee table.

"Sleep." She muttered from the depths of her daze.

"Food, love." He chuckled at the weary girl who was curled up at the end of the couch.

"To be honest, I'm not all that hungry. Someone's order got messed up and I ended up eating the whole screw up." She spoke softly.

"Then perhaps you should go to bed." Crowley shifted his legs around, allowing her more space on the couch.

"What sort of host would I be if I abandoned you here to drown your miseries in that stupid scotch of yours?" Her eyes flitted open and a grin spread across her face as she watched for the demon's reaction.

"You haven't even tried it." His nostrils were flared as he bit back his twinge of anger.

Rose just laughed. "Because you would kill me if I stole your drink."

Crowley had no reply. At the sound of her laughter, he felt his anger melting away, and he found himself smiling at the petite figure.

"Well," Rose uncurled herself, falling into a criss-cross-applesauce with her elbows on her knees. "Did you want anything to eat?"

"Demon, love. Don't need to."

"That doesn't mean you don't want to."

She smiled at her company. It was strange to think it, but she enjoyed when Crowley visited. She was exhausted, but she was more than happy to stay awake if it meant spending time with him.

"I'm fine. You just relax, darling. Tell me about your day." Crowley picked up his glass again, now that it was magically refilled thanks to his demonic powers.

"You wanna hear about my day? It's not like I do anything interesting. I'm sure your day was much more eventful." Crowley chuckled.

"You want to hear about how I tortured people and-"

"On second thought, I'm sure your day was boring too."

They laughed. Rose stood up, headed for her bedroom.

"I'm gonna put some PJs on. I can't stand this uniform for another second." She called over her shoulder.

Crowley polished off his glass and set it down again. He watched the brunette traipsing off to her room. This was by no means the first time she had changed into more comfortable clothes while he was visiting, yet this time he wanted nothing more than to follow her, to take in her form, to run his hands along her soft skin...and after six months of visiting her, he was surprised he hadn't done that so much sooner.

As she rifled through her dresser, she failed to hear the demon king making his way to her door, which she had completely forgotten to close. Settling on a pair of navy satin pants and one of Bobby's old t-shirts, she pushed the dresser drawer shut with her hip and threw the clothes on her bed. Rose began to unbutton her white uniform blouse, but three buttons down, she noticed the dark figure in her doorway.

"Don't stop on my account, love." He bravely took a step forward.

"Seriously?" Rose huffed, her arms falling to her sides. "I let you use my TV, eat my food, and you have full access to the guest bedroom. But if you're gonna perv on me, I _will_ kick you out."

Crowley only smiled. "Is that so?"

"Yes. So quit creeping and let me change in peace!" She stepped towards the demon, trying to wave him out of her room. But a little voice in the back of head was begging for him to stay, to undress her with his hands the way he did with his eyes, to have his way with her right then and there...and after six months of him visiting, she was surprised he hadn't done that so much sooner.

He caught her wrists with ease. Rose's heart flipped in her chest, and she was certain it skipped a beat. Swallowing her nerves, she glared up at him, hoping her eyes were filled with determination and anger. But Crowley didn't flinch. Instead, he smiled.

"Would you like some help?"

"In your dreams, hotshot." Rose spoke quietly. Crowley's face was inches from her's.

"You know you want me to."

"Is that so?"

Crowley smirked. Rose's mask of anger was quickly melting.

Before either of them registered what was happening, Crowley's lips were on her's. Rose's breath hitched in her throat, but she didn't pull away. In fact, she did the exact opposite. Crowley slowly traded his grip on her wrists for one on her waist. Rose's hands rested on his chest, creeping their way up and around to his neck.

When he left her lips, she took a great breath, realizing just how much she needed air. Crowley chuckled, his mouth trailing her jawline down to her neck and to her shoulder.

With one swift and strong movement, Crowley had her pinned beneath him on the bed.

Dewdrops of sweat collecting on their skin, Crowley flopped onto the bed next to Rose, who turned her head on the pillow to watch him. Huffing and puffing, trying to regain her breath, she couldn't help but break into a small fit of laughter.

"Oh my god. I just fucked the King of Hell." She practically whispered after her laughter.

Crowley ran a hand over the girl's body, running up her leg to her chest. "And you loved it."

"Maybe." She smirked. Crowley stretched over to kiss her.

Giggling, Rose smiled. "And the best part is: I have the day off tomorrow."

"Oh, you're going to wish you hadn't told me that, love." He practically growled with delight.

Needless to say, Rose didn't get her day of nothing like she had planned.

* * *

**Thus ends the set up of their relationship. The next many chapters will not always be in chronological order. I'll date the ones that are related to the timeline, but otherwise just enjoy the fluff!**


	4. Worst Customer Ever

Worst Customer Ever

"Hey Rose, someone just took 5." Liz - Rose's best friend in Chicago - called across the counter.

"I'm going, I'm going. Keep your panties on." With another swig of her coffee, Rose straightened her waist apron and strode over to the newly occupied table.

"This is rather quaint. It's very fitting that you would work here."

"Crowley?!" Rose looked over her shoulder to check if her coworkers were watching. "What are you doing here?"

"I have a...let's call it a meeting tonight, so I thought I'd drop by earlier to check on you." He smirked at the girl.

"Check in on me? You realize I'm a hunter right?" She placed a hand on her hip.

"Retired, love."

"Doesn't mean I can't kick ass anymore." Rose huffed. "Did you want something or are you just here to bother me?"

"That's harsh, love." Rose rolled her eyes. "But since you asked so nicely, what do you recommend?"

"Club it is. Any allergies, aversions, or dislikes I should know about? Besides salt, that is." Crowley shook his head.

Rolling her eyes yet again and stifling a laugh, Rose went to back to the kitchen.


	5. Scuffing the Traps

Scuffing the Traps

Rose carried a pair of scissors, a bucket of water with a sponge, and a pocket knife around her apartment. She took the doormat at her front door, rolled it up, and stashed it in the kitchen cabinet under the sink. She used the sponge to mop away markings on the ceilings.

She had just knelt in front of the couch and flipped over all three cushions when the familiar, rough yet soothing voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Don't like the couch anymore?"

"Actually, I'm getting rid of my devil's traps." Rose took the scissors and snipped away a single thread of each trap that had been sewn on the underside of the couch cushions.

"Why on earth would you do that?" Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched her.

"I figured if you're gonna be around more often, you're not gonna want to be trapped all the time." She flipped the cushions over again and returned them to their places. "Don't worry. I'm not getting rid of all of them, just enough so that you have freedom. I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve." She finished with a wink.

"And what would those be, love?" The demon asked with a raised eyebrow.

"If I told you, that would ruin the whole purpose." Rose smirked, making a point of getting in his personal space before picking up her tools and returning to her work.

* * *

**In case anyone was wondering, I imagine this would have taken place sometime between 'An Odd Friendship' and 'The Odd Couple.'**


	6. Flower

Flower

"Honey, I'm home." The gravely British accent washed over Rose's ears like a wave over the beach.

She laughed. "And how was your day, dear?"

Crowley leaned over the back of the couch, resting his head against her's.

"So terribly boring, Flower." He hummed next to her ear.

Rose pulled her head away to look at him with raised eyebrows. "Flower?"

"Would you rather I come up with a new name?" He asked, offering the same facial expression.

"No, I like it." She smiled and planted a small kiss on his stubbled cheek. "It's not terribly creative though."

Giggling, Rose grabbed his tie and pulled him further over the couch and kissed him.


	7. Just A Little Blood

Just a Little Blood

Rose flicked off the living room light and shut her bedroom door behind her. Stifling a yawn, she made her way to her dresser to find a set of pajamas.

As she opened her drawer, strong and calloused hands wound their way around her waist.

"You won't be needing those tonight." Crowley spoke softly into her ear.

"Hate to disappoint, hotshot, but I'm on my period." Rose replied, continuing to acquire pajamas.

"You think a little blood's going to stop me?" Crowley pushed aside her hair, giving him full access to her neck, which he immediately planted kisses and bites on.

"Ah that's right. Almost forgot who I was talking to." Rose laughed, allowing her body to melt and mold into Crowley's grasp.


	8. Migraines Are A Bitch

Migraines Are a Bitch

The middle Winchester lay on her bed in the near pitch black darkness with an ice pack on her head and a bucket on the floor. She wasn't sure who in her family had cursed her with the migraine gene, but she wanted to rip their throat out - just as soon as she could stand again.

Focusing on taking even and deep breaths, Rose shifted the ice pack from her head to the back of her neck, hoping to ease her nausea. She would have groaned if the sound wouldn't have sent searing daggers through her skull.

"Flower?" The bedroom door creaked open.

"Please shut the door." Rose whispered, sealing her eyes shut.

"What's wrong, love?" Crowley did as she said and sat next to her weary form on the bed.

"Are you sick?" He asked, noticing the bucket beside her.

"Migraine." She replied at half the volume she used just a second ago. Rose kept her eyes shut, but she could feel Crowley shifting around on the bed. He reached out to stroke her cheek.

"Please don't. I'll throw up." She wished she could move her head away. Daring to open her eyes, the first thing she saw was Crowley lowering his face to meet her's.

Before she could protest, his warm, soft lips were pressed against her forehead and her pain faded away.

She took in a deep breath, overjoyed that she could make such a drastic movement without wanting to vomit. "Thank you."

"You only ever have to ask, Flower." Crowley smiled, kissing her.

"They aren't normally that bad. I've gotten pretty good at just dealing with them. This is the first time I've had to hide in the dark in at least a year." Rose sat up, burying herself in the demon's embrace.

"I expect to hear from you every time you have a migraine. Even a small one."

"Yes sir." She chuckled.

Crowley readjusted them to kiss her again.

"Not tonight. The pain might be gone but the exhaustion and nausea are still there." Rose offered a weak smile.

"Of course, Flower." Crowley spoke softly. He flipped the blankets and sheets away. He kicked off his shoes, threw off his jackets, and loosened his tie. Rose situated herself under the covers as Crowley laid back. She rested her head on his chest and he wrapped his arms around her. They laid like that all night.


	9. Sleep Paralysis

Sleep Paralysis

Rose didn't toss and turn, but Crowley knew there was something wrong. She was laying in his arms, both of them still lacking clothing after the night's adventurous exercise. Because she was well enough cuddled into him and because he had spent enough time laying with her as she slept to know, Crowley had almost instantly noticed the change in her breathing.

It sounded more labored, almost as if she was having a hard time getting air. He had tried shifting her around to open her airway, but it hadn't help even in the slightest. So he came to the conclusion that she was having a nightmare. Her only hope was for her to beat it or for her to wake up.

Crowley watched her closely, continuing to hold her tightly to him.

When Rose jolted awake and her eyes flew wide open, she couldn't remember exactly what her nightmare was, but she remembered being terrified. And the feeling didn't go away when she saw a figure floating above her. She tried to reach for her gun on the nightstand, but she couldn't move. It felt like she was being pinned down, but there was nothing holding her down except for Crowley's arms - and they hardly would have been able to keep her pinned right now.

No, Rose couldn't move a single muscle - she couldn't even move her chest muscles enough to breath properly. Rose was trapped by her own body, forced to watch the haunting figure above her. She struggled against herself, using all of her mental power to will her muscles to work, but to no avail. She wanted to cry out, but her voice wouldn't come. She couldn't shut her eyes, she couldn't get her gun, she couldn't roll out of the way, and she couldn't even open her mouth to tell the King of Hell laying right next to her.

He dared not move. Rose was staring at the ceiling above her with absolute terror and her breathing was nearly nonexistent. He had no idea what to do.

What was five seconds to Crowley felt like an hour to Rose. When at last she was released from her body's prison, every action she had been struggling to do happened all at once. It was like a tightly compressed spring suddenly breaking free and into uncontrollable action.

Rose's legs twitched under the covers as she dove for her gun on the nightstand. Without a thought or any hesitation she fired two rounds into the ominous and disturbing figure plaguing her vision. At last, it disappeared when the bullets went straight through it.

With a deep breath and a sigh of relief, Rose returned her gun and collapsed back into Crowley, who had just witnessed everything with great confusion and worry.

"Everything alright, Flower?" He ran a hand through her hair.

"Sleep paralysis. I've only ever had it once before. It's awful..." Rose turned and buried her face in the demon's chest. He continued to play with her hair and laid his head on her's.


	10. A Crown for the King

A Crown For the King

Rose left the bathroom, stifling a yawn as she made her way to her bedroom. She was looking forward to a nice, long night of sleep.

But just her luck, she found the King of Hell reclining on her bed. Why was it that every single time she was excited about being able to rest, he showed up? Not that she was going to complain. Much.

"Are you going to stand there gawking or are you going to join me, Flower?" Crowley smirked with a wink.

Rose smiled. "In a minute." Then she quickly made her way to her dresser. She pulled open the first drawer and dug around for a moment.

"What are you doing?" Crowley asked with a raised brow.

Rose didn't answer, but pulled a plastic bag from the drawer, then shut it. She sat beside Crowley, stuck her hand in the bag, and pulled out its contents.

Laughing to herself, Rose held out a plastic crown towards Crowley. It was made of plastic gold with rhinestones of all colors. It reminded her somewhat of the crowns she saw kids wearing at Burger King.

Crowley, with both brows raised, bit back a laugh as he asked: "What exactly is that, love?"

Rose grinned ear-to-ear and put the crown on his head. "Your crown. You said you didn't have one, so I got one for you."

Crowley laughed. "Oh I'm sure the demons will love this."

Still smiling and laughing, she threw the plastic bag aside and straddled the demon king. Without missing a beat, they were liplocked.

When Rose pulled back for air, she whispered in his ear: "I'm all yours tonight, _but_ you have to wear the crown."

"Deal." Crowley grunted and wasted no time in flipping her over.


	11. No Promises

**I just realized I missed doing a milestone chapter for #10, so instead here's one for 10th follower! This takes place between 6x10 (Caged Heat) and 6x19 (Mommy Dearest) and is the first time Rose tells Crowley to 'try not to get into too much trouble.'**

**Thank you to everyone who has favorited, followed, and/or reviewed 'Every Rose Has Its Thorn.' As I said on 'A Rose By Any Other Name,' every notification I get makes my day, so thank you all for making smile.**

**Without further ado, enjoy your fluffly milestone chapter...**

* * *

No Promises

It must've been a year since the odd couple really got together when Crowley hid out in Rose's apartment for the first time. He had faked his death to throw off an irritating pair of hunters that was out to skin him alive, so he had to lay low for a while.

And his idea of laying low just so happened to be spending all of his time within the confines of Rose's little Chicago apartment.

It was actually beginning to get to him. While he took and made phone calls from his demon minions running things in his absence, he couldn't leave the place lest he be spotted. Rose was actually the one to bring that to his attention. If he was supposed to be dead, he couldn't very well be running around leaving a trail for hunters to follow. And if these frustrating hunters were as talented as Crowley had led her to believe, Rose had no doubt that they would be able to find him again the moment he stepped out of hiding - that was if Crowley wasn't so cocky as to brag about successfully faking his death the moment he left hiding.

So instead he spent two months doing nothing but whining about his cabin fever.

Though Rose wasn't going to complain much. When Crowley got bored, his first course of action was to seduce her. Rose had no problem with that. She had done enough sleeping around in her life to be considered pretty experienced, but Crowley was by far the best man (or demon) she had ever had the immense pleasure of sleeping with.

He was dominant and rough, but he did a number on her every single time. There were some times when she was certain she wasn't going to be able to sit for a week. She _never_ walked away from a night with the King of Hell without stumbling for control over her weak knees. She also never walked away without a few bite mark and bruises. Not only did he enjoy inflicting pain, he enjoyed marking her as his. Rose, surprisingly, had no problem with any of it. In fact, she loved it.

Over those two months and despite Crowley's cabin fever, they had grown strangely accustomed to odd domesticality of the situation. In the morning, one of them would be the first to find the energy or motivation to get out of bed and make breakfast for the both of them. Most mornings, it was Crowley who was up first considering he (being a demon and all) didn't really sleep. He often shared Rose's morning shower with her, and would chat with her while she got ready for the day. Some days he even helped her with her morning routine - so much so that he had it memorized just as well as Rose did.

If Rose had work, Crowley would find something to entertain himself in her absence. He had gone through her collection of books four times, her movie collection twice, and had just about tinkered with every little thing in her apartment. One day, Rose came home only to see him actually cleaning. He had gotten really bored that day.

However, if Rose didn't have work, they either spent the day rocking the bed or plain old fooling around. From dancing around to Rose's variety of CDs and attempting to bake a cake but insteading setting the kitchen on fire, they had damn near done everything they could in that little apartment.

As much as Crowley's whining about being confined to the 600 square foot apartment made Rose groan and roll her eyes, she had grown to enjoy having him around. While she knew he would have to leave at some point and return to his demonic life, she found herself wishing he would never leave - at least not for long.

And as much as Crowley whined about being confined to the 600 square foot apartment, he had grown to enjoy living with the human girl. While he knew he would have to leave at some point and return to ruling Hell and torturing souls, he found himself wishing he didn't have to leave - at least not for very long. Which was odd to him, but he found himself running that thought through his head more nights than not.

So when the call at last came - when he knew he was set to emerge from hiding - he was hesitant to go. Rose was still at work, and if he left now, she would come back to an empty home and no one to share the day's events with.

Instead, he conjured up the best dinner he could possibly think of: a fresh pizza from Italy topped with all of Rose's favorites and a pitcher's worth of very sweet tea. It wasn't anywhere near a meal that Crowley would call nice or elegant or even good, but it was Rose's favorite meal in the whole world. He figured she would be upset at practically quitting his company cold turkey for a while, so perhaps her favorite meal would help. At least, he hoped it would.

So when Rose at last burst through the door, dinner was already set out on the little coffee table between the sage couch and the clunky television set.

"What is that smell? It smells like heaven!" Rose grinned, taking a great sniff as she discarded her keys, weapons, jacket, and shoes by the door.

"I think Heaven smells more like a sweaty angel locker room than delicious and fresh food." Crowley quipped, removing his bottle of Craig from the stash he had set up in Rose's kitchen.

"Man, am I spoiled!" Rose chuckled, at last taking notice of the meal set out on her not-so-large-or-fancy makeshift dining table. The pizza was so fresh that it was still steaming and the melty cheese was still draped along the path it had taken to get from the box to the plate. Her sweaty, ice cold glass of sweet tea even had a lemon slice perched along its edge.

Rose wasted no time in sitting on her well worn couch and taking several bites of her dinner. Her stomach quelled for the moment, she at last spoke up when Crowley resumed his seat beside her. "Pizza and sweet tea? What's the occasion? You pregnant?"

"Not quite." The demon couldn't help but laugh at her joke. However, he chose his next words slowly and carefully. "It's time for me to rejoin the world of the living."

Rose choked down her current bite, flushing it down her throat with a large gulp of tea. She did her best to keep from reacting too emotionally, but she was finding it difficult to take another bite of food.

"Oh." was all she could manage for a moment. "What, um - what happened?"

"A partner-in-crime of mine needs me to clean up their mess yet again." The King of Hell practically grumbled, taking a nice, long drink of his fancy alcohol.

Rose swallowed hard, still holding her slice of pizza closer to her lap than her mouth. "When do you have to go?"

"I've already stayed longer than I should have." Rose could only nod absentmindedly. She at last set down her pizza and turned to face her demon lover.

"Well, um-" She tried to start. However, she was fumbling for words. Actually, she was still processing everything. It wasn't that she was having a hard time understanding that Crowley had to leave, she was having a hard time figuring out how she felt about it - or what to say for that matter.

"I won't be gone forever, Flower. There's no need to cry." Crowley chuckled.

"I'm not crying." Rose scowled, somewhat pouting like a five year old that was just informed they were a baby.

The King of Hell only chuckled more and louder. "Don't worry, darling. I'll be back to bother you before you know it. So I suggest you leave a spot open for me on your bed."

That made Rose smile and roll her eyes. "Alright, just be careful. If you have to fake your death again and spend another two months whining about being stuck in my apartment, I'm gonna gank you myself."

If Rose hadn't been smiling, Crowley might have been genuinely worried. Instead, he set down his little glass. He reached across the couch, resting a warm and calloused hand against Rose's flush cheek. He ran a thumb across her skin as he leaned through the small space between them and kissed her. She tasted like cheese and garlic with a hint of sugar and lemon and her lips were soft with the oil on the pizza.

Rose didn't hesitate to close the space completely, pulling herself against the demon. She could taste the Craig on his lips, and while it wasn't a taste she would choose to drink of her own volition, she loved it on Crowley. His stubble tickled her tanned face, no doubt leaving behind an interesting patch of red irritation for her deal with later.

When at last they separated, Rose felt as if she had just been robbed of all off her precious weapons (which she cherished more than any other possession). Not because she had actually been robbed and not because she missed the contact with Crowley, but because she missed _him_ already. She was going to miss having him around all the time to help her and tease her and fool around with her and spend the night with her and make her laugh and make her swoon…

"Try not to get into too much trouble." Rose whispered, forcing a small smile.

"I'm a demon, love. I'm bound to get into trouble." Crowley gave the most shit-eating smirk Rose had ever seen.

"At least try." Rose fell into a bitch face - which she was sure was purely genetic.

"I can't-"

"Just try."

Crowley's smirk melted into a more genuine - yet still sly - smile. Then he answered with a wink, "No promises, love."

Rose pulled him into one last kiss before he disappeared from her apartment.

She sighed. The silence that followed was almost deafening to her. There was no sound to be heard other than the ice crackling in her drink like Rice Krispies and the faint traffic stories below her.

After two months of company and noise, Rose would have to readjust to the silence and solitude she knew too well long before Crowley showed up in her life. It was strange. To miss a demon so much was something Rose never dreamed she would be doing one day, yet here she was.

Crowley would come back though. She wouldn't be alone in silence forever. She wasn't really alone though - he was always a phone call away.

So with another sigh, Rose turned back to her dinner and finished it in silence, finding herself smiling as she played the last two months over and over in her head. Who would have thought a hunter would be so close to the King of Hell himself?


	12. The Best Kind of Torture

The Best Kind of Torture

"You called?" Crowley appeared in the apartment's living room.

"I have a lead for you." Rose announced, making her way to the couch with a bowl of strawberries in her hand.

"Oh?"

"Spoke to one of my vamp buddies. I know where the alpha is." Rose replied with a cocky grin on her face.

"And where exactly is he?" Crowley asked, partially surprised, but impressed nonetheless.

"Oh no, you're not getting it that easy. It took some effort to get that answer." Rose took a bite of an especially plump and juicy strawberry. "You gotta work for it."

"What would you like me to do?" He asked with a raised brow. He hoped he knew where this conversation was going.

Rose smirked, finished three more berries before setting down the bowl and standing. Swinging her hips and putting on her best seductive face, Rose strode over to the king of Hell and rested her forearms on his shoulders.

"You're gonna have to work real hard to get that information out of me." Rose spoke with a low voice.

"Oh, love, believe me - I will. And you'll squeal before I'm even done." He growled back. Rose bit her lip and couldn't help but giggle as she led him to her bedroom.

* * *

**Just in case you didn't pick up on it, this scene takes place just before the events of Season 6 Episode 7: 'Family Matters.'**


	13. Independence Day

Independence Day

Rose felt oddly energized. The Winchesters had never been one to celebrate holidays past a happy greeting and maybe a five minute celebration. Dean more often than not made an effort to give his little siblings happy and memorable holidays, but they never truly got in the spirit of things. But today….today Rose was going to celebrate like she never had before.

This wasn't the first holiday Rose had celebrated on her own since she moved to Chicago, but it was certainly the first she decided to actually celebrate. What better way to celebrate Independence Day than turning everything red, white, and blue?

"What the bloody hell is this?"

Rose burst out laughing at the sight of Crowley becoming ensnared in several crepe paper streamers.

"It's the fourth of July!" Rose replied through her laughs.

"Ah, the day when Americans become even more insufferable than usual." Crowley grumbled, swiping at the patriotic streamers draped across him.

"Oh, come on. It's not _that_ bad." Rose crossed her arms. Though if she had been able to see herself, she might have thought Crowley had a bit of a point. Not only was her entire apartment filled with streamers, balloons, unused sparklers, beer, and a few printed out pictures, Rose herself was covered in red, white, and blue clothing and face paint.

Crowley only raised a brow and eyed her up and down.

"What?" Rose asked defensively. "This is the first time I've ever really celebrated Fourth of July!"

"I know you Americans tend to be on the insane side, but I don't think all this-" He gestured around the room and to the ex-hunter. "Is how you celebrate revolting against England."

"Well then what do you propose we do?" Rose huffed.

"We? Oh, no. This is _your_ holiday." Crowley brushed off the sleeves of his jacket as if attempting to brush off the American-ness he found himself surrounded by.

"If you didn't want to celebrate, you shouldn't have left Hell today." Rose countered.

Crowley ground his jaw then sighed. "Very well. But if I'm going to participate in this….absurdity, we're going to do it on my terms."

Rose straightened out her posture and watched Crowley with silent amusement. "So what do you want to do?"

"Have you ever seen Washington, D.C.?"


End file.
